It’s almost one a.m. when he receives the call, the ringing jarring him out of his sleep. He grumbles a curse to himself before sitting up and turning on the light. He frowns at the caller ID. Curious, Ryan presses the talk button, sure it must be an emergency. “Lindsay. It’s one in the morning. Is everything alright?”
Lindsay was totally out of her mind, the feeling of being buzzed left her head in tangles. She was stumbling in her own flat, giggling every time she tripped. The final time Lindsay tripped she stayed on the floor, getting her phone out and clicked on a random contact. “You know-” Lindsay slurred, hiccuping in the middle of her sentences. “You-You have 200 contacts but I-I have fifteen — hiccup — thousand!” She giggled, trying to stand up but a slipped onto the floor again. “I’m flipping finetastic.”
Ryan’s hand came up to his face at the sound of Lindsay, drunk out of her mind. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. So it wasn’t an emergency, not quite. “I can tell,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Where…where are you right now?"